


wait for me to come home

by carissima



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Everything Is Far Too Schmoopy, Future Fic, M/M, Schmoop, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2496005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick comes home to find his future husband in bed. It's a bit of a surprise, all things considered.</p><p>Time-travel fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this should come with a warning for over-schmoopiness. I need to thank Jess for looking this over for me, she is wonderful and beautiful and all amazing things. Sorry there isn't enough bickering for you but I did warn that I was terrible at this pairing I'M SORRY!!

Nick walks through the front door to his flat and promptly falls over. Cursing, he rubs his hurt knee as he turns to find a pair of worn Vans just lying haphazardly on the floor. Confused and slightly annoyed, he scrambles back to his feet and tries to figure out which of his mates have keys to his flat (too many, if he’s being honest) and who wears Vans.

He draws a blank.

"Hello?" he calls out, a hint of tiredness edging into his tone as he makes his way to the kitchen, sticking his head into the living room as he goes, but it’s empty. The kitchen too, although there’s a dirty mug on the side with a few dregs of tea inside, Nick notes as he picks it up and puts it in the dishwasher. His friends truly are slobs.

Since he’d not had his full eight hours last night, or even more than four since Colette had called him at arse o’clock in a tizzy and Nick hadn’t had the heart to remind her that he had a show in less than five hours, he traipses upstairs, kicking off his jeans and stripping off his shirt, barely stifling a yawn as he wonders who, exactly, he’s going to find in his bed today in the seemingly never-ending revolving bed swap he's found himself in with his mates.

Hand caught in his tousled hair as he steps into his room, dressed only in his boxers, he freezes as his eyes register exactly _who_ is in his bed.

"Um, hello?" Nick says, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual thanks to his complete shock. "Louis?"

Louis Tomlinson, who he most definitely has _never_ given a key to, or has ever been to his flat, to his knowledge, looks up at him with sleepy, soft eyes, hair sticking up in all kinds of directions as he yawns and turns around, the sheets twisted around his waist so Nick can stupidly admire his lovely golden tan on Louis' very toned, very lovely physique.

But still. Stranger in his bed.

"Hey," Louis says, like this is a totally normal thing to happen. "How’s work?"

"Uh, fine, thanks," Nick says politely and automatically, wincing at how awkward he sounds.

"Good," Louis says, and promptly closes his eyes, hand reaching up to pat the empty space next to him. "Shut up and get into bed then."

Nick’s definitely entered some kind of twilight zone. “Uh Louis? Why are you in my bed, exactly? Did Harry give you a key?”

Louis opens his eyes and he looks a tiny bit puzzled, like _Nick’s_ being the weird one here. “How would he do that then since you confiscated it after he walked in on us shagging in the kitchen?”

And- _what_?

"What?" Nick echoes his own thoughts, his hand reaching blindly for the door handle for balance, as his brain tries to compute him and Louis having sex. It's an oddly easy thing to picture, he finds, which doesn't help his rapid descent into panic at all. "We’ve never! I mean, what?"

"Nick, why the fuck are you being so weird?" Louis asks him, finally sitting up and holy fuck, he’s definitely naked. Naked and uncaring that Nick can _see_. That he’s _naked_. “And why is your hair so long? I thought you promised never to wear it that long ever again. We had a deal, love.”

Louis Tomlinson is calling him love in a teasing, _fond_ kind of way and Nick feels like he’s having some kind of heart attack since his pulse is racing beyond anything he’d call normal. He drags his gaze upwards, way upwards, right up to the ceiling because Louis is naked in his bed and Nick can't begin to process that. “Louis, I honestly have no idea what you’re doing in my bed or why you’d have a key or why you think we’d be shagging in my kitchen.”

Louis stares at him, and something finally seems to register as he looks around Nick’s room with a slight frown, like he's trying to work things out. “Yeah, my stuff is all gone,” he says slowly. “And everything in the kitchen was in the wrong place. I thought you’d just moved it all while I was away for like, a joke or because you were bored or something.”

Louis finally looks back at him and his eyes carefully trace his body, making Nick feel both awkward and warm before he zeroes in on Nick's hips. “Your tattoo. It’s not there," he mutters, his own voice rising in what sounds like panic, which makes Nick feel a little less alone here. "Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. What the fuck is happening?”

"I have no idea," Nick says slowly. "We like, we’re not mates. Acquaintances maybe. You’re meant to be on tour in the US right now, so I dunno why you’re here. Harry’s meant to be calling into the show on Monday for your new single. He’s been moaning about the time differences."

"What song?" Louis asks, so quietly it's almost a whisper. ""What song are we releasing on Monday, Nick?"

"Steal my girl," Nick says, and he knows something's up before he sees Louis reels back in shock. Fuck. What the fuck is happening right now?

"We released that three years ago," Louis says, sounding confused and shocked and his gaze is darting back around the room like he’s desperately trying to find something to anchor himself to. Nick’s not sure how he’s meant to feel when it lands on him and Louis doesn’t look away. "We weren’t dating then. I’ve fucking time travelled. Fuck. What the fuck?!"

There's a silent beat. "I’m sorry, did you just say we’re dating?" Nick says, more dazed by that incredibly confusing and fuck, _intriguing_ piece of information than the fact that time travel is apparently a thing. “You and me?”

Louis slowly raises his left hand. There’s a shiny platinum ring on his ring finger that has Nick slowly sinking to the floor, his back against the wall and he's suddenly unable to breathe. “We’re _married_?”

"Two years," Louis says. "Bit of a whirlwind."

Nick’s married. To a popstar. To Louis fucking Tomlinson.

Fuck.

He's married. He's _married_. He's barely held onto a relationship longer than two months in his entire life and yet he gets married. Which isn't even the weirdest thing about this entire situation, because he's going to get married to Louis Tomlinson, one fifth of the biggest boyband on the planet, who is currently dating a girl as far as he knows, but in all fairness his interest in Harry's bandmates is mostly reduced to h _ow much does Liam look like Beckham today Harry_ and _Zayn's still ridiculously fit then_ and generally keeping tabs on Niall so he can tease Matt about him. Of all of them, Louis' been the smallest blip on Nick's admittedly hazy radar.

"We should call Harry," Nick says. When Louis gives him an odd look, Nick shrugs. "See whether the you from 2014 has travelled into the future."

Nick fumbles for his phone, which he'd dropped on the floor at some point in this bizarre conversation and hits dial on Harry's number.

"Fuck me Grimmy it's arse o'clock," Harry mumbles when he answers.

"Hey, sorry mate," Nick says with a wince. "Uh, this is gonna sound a bit weird, but just go with it, okay?"

"Yeah man," Harry says. "Of course."

Sometimes, Nick wonders what he did to deserve having someone like Harry in his life. It must have been something incredible. "Is uh, are all your band still there? With you? No one's like, disappeared or anything overnight?"

He hears a rustling, like Harry's moving around. His gaze darts over to Louis, who's just watching him, lying back against Nick's pillows like he belongs there. Which he does, apparently. Fuck.

"Niall and Zayn are definitely here, they're in bed," Harry whispers. There's more rustling and Nick can't help the fond grin that lifts the corners of his mouth because honestly, Harry's the best. "Ugh, Liam's outside training."

"Just what I like to hear," Nick teases. "Is there sweat glistening off his body?"

Louis makes a strangled noise and Nick looks up in surprise. Louis' grabbed a pillow and shoved it over his face and oh yeah. He probably shouldn't be leering over Louis' bandmate, even if he is just teasing.

"Nope, not yet," Harry tells him cheerfully before he laughs down the phone. "Okay, just need to find Lou."

Nick can feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest as the seconds tick by as Harry is, he imagines, creeping around the tour bus in search of a boy who might not even be there.

Nick's got a half-formed plan to get Louis to Heathrow and somehow get him to the US without anyone noticing before Harry speaks again. "Lou's in the shower. All present and accounted for."

"Did you see him in the shower? Like with your own eyes?" Nick asks. The words are out of his mouth before he pauses and glances over at Louis, who doesn't react at all.

"He's singing, I can hear him through the door," Harry tells him, sounding amused. "I can go check if you like though."

"No, that's fine," Nick says, feeling a flush creeping over his skin. "Thanks, Harry. I'll speak to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, and you can tell me what this is all about," Harry says, barely smothering a yawn.

They say their goodbyes before Nick lowers his phone and taps it idly against his knee.

"You're still in America," Nick says. "So I guess that's good."

"You're blushing," is what Louis says. "What am I doing then? In America?"

"Showering," Nick says, keeping his gaze determinedly on his phone and not looking up because he's embarrassed enough. "And singing."

"I love a good singsong in the shower, me," Louis says. "You're a terrible singer."

Which. Well. It's not like the nation doesn't already know that about him, since he sings on his show all the time. But it's the way Louis says it, like it's an intimate secret between them, like Louis' got countless memories of Nick singing stored away that's just for them. Nick fists his trembling hands and shoves them under his folded legs. "We should uh, both get dressed," he says finally. He stumbles to his feet and waves a hand uselessly between them. "I think this'll be easier if we're both uh, fully clothed."

Louis gives him an incredulous look and okay, maybe it's dumb but he's not used to seeing Louis Tomlinson naked, even if Louis' seen him naked a million times.

Oh god. Louis' seen him naked. And still married him. Nick all but flees out of the bedroom, grabbing his clothes so he can get out of there before he has to finish that thought.

Ten minutes later, they're on Nick's sofas. Separate sofas, even though there was an awkward, terrible moment when Louis looked like he was going to flop down next to Nick, and he's so not ready for that.

Nick's leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he holds his mug of tea between his hands, watching as Louis drops gracefully onto the sofa and picks up his own mug of freshly brewed tea. He's got joggers on that are too long for his legs, turned up at the cuffs, and a loose-fitting t-shirt with a picture of Lily Allen on it. Nick hides his smile into his mug as he takes a sip and wishes he could take a picture because Lily would absolutely wet herself with laughter. Louis' feet are bare and he tucks them up underneath himself, managing to make himself look even smaller than he already does as Louis lifts his mug to sip at his tea.

Nick doesn't miss the face he pulls at it.

"Did I make it wrong?" Nick asks. Louis just shrugs and sips at the tea carefully. "Tell me. Too much milk? Not enough? Do you take sugar?"

Louis scratches at his thigh and sighs quietly. "I like it stronger," he says. "You usually make it stronger. I just forgot for a moment. That you don't know how to make my tea the way I like it yet. But it's fine. I just. God, I want to go home."

Home. Back to his future self who knows how Louis likes his tea and probably sits on the same sofa with Louis and who would have crawled into bed with him, warming himself by wrapping his arms around a sleepy Louis.

He lowers his mug carefully and tries not to think about how achy that thought makes him. "I'll remember for next time, then," Nick says. "I'm sure this is temporary or something. We'll get you back, yeah?"

Louis manages a smile. It's a bit wane and sad though so it mostly makes Nick feel worse about everything. "Perhaps I should have poured something stronger altogether," he says, falling back on a lame attempt at humour since he's two seconds away from tugging Louis into a hug just to make his smile a bit brighter and he's not ready for that either. "Just had a few crates of a new Shiraz delivered a few days ago, it's a new favourite actually. Getting trashed on good wine sounds like a good way to deal with all this."

Louis nearly spills his tea as his hands jerk. Nick hears the quiet, fierce swearing Louis does under his breath and he's half up to grab a towel when Louis steadies his hands and puts the mug down on the coffee table. "Shit, sorry."

"No worries," Nick tells him as he sits back down and puts his own mug on the table. Louis looks unnerved, his hands fidgeting on the cords of his joggers and his gaze moving around the room. "Is there, uh, something weird about wine then? Did I do something stupid? Oh god don't tell me I end up in The Priory." It's not something he worries about really, but still. It's happened to too many of his friends for it not to be at least a vague concern.

"Course not," Louis says like it's the most ridiculous thing Nick could say, which is a relief to be honest. Louis finally looks at him, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head. "I saw it in the kitchen. Pretty hard to miss, actually, since you've got so much of it."

"So what freaked you out just now? Or is the tea that awful?" Nick's curious, leaning back against the sofa and stretching out his long legs. He thinks he might as well get comfortable since this morning has been a lot already and he was tired before he come home to find his future husband curled up in his bed.

"We had our first date here."

It's not what Nick was expecting him to say at all and he just stares at Louis, his face blank with shock. "Our first date," he murmurs. Of course they had a first date, he realises with a jolt. And unless Louis comes out in the next few months, of course they had it somewhere private where no one could stumble upon them. "Was it good? Or a disaster?" Honestly with him it's about 50/50, but something must have made Louis come back. Or never leave.

"Good," Louis says in a soft voice that Nick's not emotionally equipped to deal with right now. The Louis he knows is prickly and loud and boisterous. He doesn't know this soft, quiet Louis but he's starting to want to. Dichotomies have always intrigued him, drawing him in even when he knows he's going to get burned, which has always been one of his biggest problems in life. "It was really good."

"What did we do?" Nick asks. He's got so many questions, but the most important one, the one that shouts the loudest in his chaotic mind, is figuring out how he managed to make Louis, tough, defensive Louis, look soft and open and like sitting apart from Nick is the worst thing in the world.

Louis' grin widens before he lets out a snort of laughter. Nick lets his gaze linger over the sharp lines of Louis' jaw and the bright blue of his eyes, alight with laughter. "I was being a depressing little shit because Eleanor and me, we broke up. So Harry dragged me to one of your celeb parties for New Year where you were being all sad and whiney about the tragic state of your love life."

Nick's not even going to try and pretend that what Louis' describing doesn't exactly describe him down to a tee. "Sounds like a perfect match," he says.

"We ended up getting trashed together," Louis says with a sharp grin. "You were talking about some guy who'd not called you back and I was uh, well, admitting that I might not just like girls and you gave me this look. Like, it pained you or something. It's a bit hazy but I think I stormed off and found Harry and I was right in the middle of telling him how awful you were when you dragged me away and into the loos. I remember telling you I hated your hair and then you kissed me."

Nick can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. "God, I'm so smooth."

"You were, actually," Louis says as he reaches for his tea again and takes a sip. He huddles up a little more into himself, his shoulders hunching just a little. "Then you asked me if I was sure about not just liking girls so I kissed you just to shut you up. When we stumbled out of the loos, Harry was laughing at us so I dragged you away to get another drink. You put your number in my phone and I uh, texted you and invited myself around so I could see if you actually liked me. Like, sober."

"A sober date with a crate of the finest Shiraz," Nick says, amused.

"Well, it was awkward when I first turned up," Louis says, shifting slightly and pulling his legs up further under himself. He puts his tea down and hugs his knees, his chin resting on his knees. "I realised much, much later that you were just nervous and talking a lot but you kept talking about celebs you knew and I thought you were being a right twat. And I was quiet for once, so you thought I was having a terrible night, which just made you talk more and open the wine. Then you said I was pretty, even if I was annoying, so I said you were handsome if you'd just stopped talking."

Nick wants to cover his face with his hands with embarrassment. "How the bloody hell did we ever make it to a second date?"

Louis laughs and shakes his head. "You dared me to shut you up so I kissed you."

The problem is that Nick can picture it so clearly. Louis is at least a head shorter than him, so he'd have to go up on his tiptoes and wrap his arms around Nick's neck. Maybe Louis would have to drag Nick down a bit while Nick's hands settle on Louis' hips, pulling him closer.

Christ. He rubs a hand over his face and coughs as discreetly as he can. Except Louis' laughing at him, his eyes crinkled and warm, his lips curved upwards, drawing out the sharp contours of his face. Nick stares for a moment and not for the first time today tries to figure out how the hell he managed to fool Louis into marrying him.

"So that's our first date, huh?" Nick says when he realises neither of them have spoken in a few minutes, caught just staring at each other. "Getting drunk because we were lonely and insulting each other?"

Because he can't seem to look away from his future husband, Nick sees the exact moment Louis' expression closes off, his mouth tightening and wrapping his arms around himself. "Yeah," he says, brittle and hard. It's a sharp contrast to the soft, warm Louis he was just starting to really, _really_ like. "Actually, it was."

The silence grows between them as Louis stares at Nick sullenly. The silence is only broken by the slow tick of Nick's garish, luminous yellow retro clock that Collette had bought him for his 30th and hangs proudly on the wall behind him. "Perhaps we shouldn't talk about stuff that happens," he says, drawing his knees up and hooking his arms around them, unconsciously mirroring Louis. "Like, maybe things will change if I know. Disturbing the space time continuum or whatever."

When Louis gives him a funny look, Nick just shrugs. "Back to the Future marathon a few weeks ago. Sadie's kids love it."

Louis nods, his face softening a little, to Nick's surprise. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll try not to give anything else away then."

They sit in a silence for a bit until Nick flicks the telly on and finds a repeat of Saturday's X Factor, which he figures should be safe enough ground for the moment. He does his best to ignore the glances Louis keeps sending his way but he fidgets helplessly as the glances turn into stares.

After an hour and a half of paying no attention to Simon and Mel B laying into auditionees, Nick sighs and gives in, turning back towards Louis who's since made himself pretty comfortable on the sofa, sprawling out and taking up far too much room for someone so small. Nick wonders if he sleeps like that and whether they've had to buy a bigger bed. "So when did we get married then?"

"Doesn't that fall into the not talking about the future thing we decided not to do?" Louis asks. His arm is bent behind his head and he looks ridiculously comfortable while Nick just feels awkward and hopeless, even though it's his place.

"You already told me it was a whirlwind and our first date is in January," Nick points out. Those particular facts are burned into his brain, etched into his very soul and he's not going to forget any time soon. If ever. "What are we talking about? A few days? Weeks? Months?"

"April," Louis says quietly. "16 April."

"16 April," Nick repeats. Seven months away. Seven months before he gets a husband. And it doesn't matter how many times he repeats it, the idea of having Louis Tomlinson as his husband, as someone he gets to sleep with and cuddle with and kiss and share intimate secrets with, it doesn't get any easier for him to understand anything about the situation.

But he's really good at compartmentalising, and has spent years perfecting it as a coping mechanism in fact. So he puts it to the back of his mind and they make it through an awkward, silent dinner and a bit more telly before Nick stifles another yawn, scratching Pig's head before he stands up and stretches.

He catches Louis staring at his midriff and Nick flushes, tugging his jumper down over the exposed skin showing off his hips and horrifically untoned belly and Christ, he needs to get back down the gym.

"Sorry," Louis mumbles, fixing his gaze firmly over Nick's shoulder.

"No it's fine," Nick says, folding his arms before letting them fall to his sides and feeling a bit miserable about the whole situation. "Uh, I don't have a spare room though so I'll have to make up the sofa for you."

He refrains from pointing out that Louis' small enough to fit easily on his oversized sofa.

"Yeah, fine," Louis says. He looks tired, Nick realises; strain and exhaustion clearly etched onto his face.

"I'm sorry," Nick says. "I'm sorry about everything. But like, I don't know you. We don't know each other, I mean. The Louis from now, that is."

"Nick," Louis says quietly, stepping forward and reaching out to grab Nick's wrist, much to his surprise. Louis' hand curls around him, his fingers barely meeting and they both stare down at where they're connected. "It's fine. I promise. I get it. Reckon I'd have reacted much worse if this were reversed, you know?"

Louis drops his wrist and steps back, leaving Nick feeling more off-kilter than he has all day. He shakes his head as if trying to clear it.

"What?" Louis asks, his eyebrows drawing together and creating a cute crinkle between his eyes. Nick has to bite back a pained groan.

"It's just. You're not like the you I know," Nick says. "Less prickly. Softer. It's just strange and I'm trying to process it all but it still feels like one massive wind-up."

It makes Louis laugh; an abrasive, wonderful sound that Nick wants to hear a million more times. "I'm far too lazy to go to this much trouble, babe."

Nick blinks at the endearment, but Louis doesn't even seem to have registered it. Nick's terrible with endearments, throwing them out carelessly at everyone and anyone. He wonders if he saves them all for Louis now, or whether Louis has his own special nickname. There's so much Nick wants to know and yet he knows he can't. He can't miss out on discovering all there is to know about Louis the way he's meant to, embarrassing discoveries and awkward moments included, if they're meant to be together.

Fuck it, he maybe does want it, the two of them. Who wouldn't want a warm, gorgeous boy in their bed every morning when they come home from work? Who could say no to a boy with sharp edges and a soft smile, who throws out endearments with as much ease as insults?

Nick's never really been one for self-denial and as he watches Louis rock up onto his heels and back again, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of Nick's joggers, he realises that he wants this. He wants to see where this goes. He wants to go on this totally crazy-sounding journey. With the Louis who's in America right now and doesn't even know he's got a date with Nick in four months.

But first things first.

"I'll get you a duvet and pillow," Nick says, almost tripping over Pig as he takes a step and he flails for a second before he steadies himself and reaches down to pick her up. "You are such a menace. I don't even know why you're here."

That makes Louis laugh before he smothers it and shrugs at Nick's look. "We both know you adore her. She peed on the carpet last week and you gave her a dog treat. I told you not to, but you won't listen," Louis says before he pulls a face. "And that's not me revealing any secrets either."

Nick's heart skips into double time as he cuddles Pig close to his chest. "Well, you've told me one thing," he says and he unconsciously drags his thumb over his Puppy tattoo. "Thanks, Louis."

Louis' arms lift from his sides and he takes a step forward before he freezes. Nick's arrested too and there's a horrible moment where Louis looks like he wants to cry. Nick's heart is pounding and he almost takes a step back when Louis' arms drop and his mouth twists painfully. Louis looks like he wants to say something but Nick's grateful when he keeps quiet and simply nods. Nick leaves the room, face buried in Pig's neck as he digs out the duvet from the cupboard and grabs some clean sheets and two pillows. He has to let Pig go, ignoring her huff of protest before she plops herself down on the floor in the middle of the hallway and stares up at him in disdain. "Hey don't blame me, blame your future Daddy in there."

Which is perhaps one of the strangest things he's ever said, and he's no stranger to saying stupid shit on a daily basis.

His cheeks are flaming when he drops the duvet onto the sofa and throws the pillows onto the other sofa. They put the sheets on silently while Nick tries to pretend he doesn't see Louis' curious looks. Finished, Nick hugs his arms around himself and aims a smile at Louis. "Well, goodnight. Don't feel like you have to go to sleep or anything, I've just like, got an early start. You know. You can watch telly, if you keep it down, or there's books." He waves a long arm towards the bookshelf, overfull with books he's read and even more that he hasn't but might do one day. Well, he probably won't but he likes the way they look and he's got a wide enough range of interests that Louis will probably find something he likes. "You'll probably hear me stumbling around at some early hour, so I'll apologise in advance if I wake you up. I've got meetings after the show but I should be home by one, maybe two."

"Nick," Louis says, and Nick suspects it's his patient voice even though it mostly sounds exasperated. "I know."

"Oh, yeah, of course you do," Nick says, scrunching up his face for a moment before he laughs. "Sorry. It's just a lot, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Louis says, more softly this time. "Go to bed, Nick. Have a good show. Try not to take the piss out of the band too much. Play the single."

"Well, since I know I have a vested interest in the earnings now, I guess I could play it." He laughs at Louis' eye roll. "God, I hope I'm a kept husband, staying at home with Pig and spending my day having coffee and lunch dates and spending all that lovely boyband money."

"What makes you think One Direction didn't fold before the end of 2014 to disappointing album sales because the Radio One Breakfast Show didn't play our songs enough?" Louis asks. There's humour lurking there behind his sharp blue eyes though so Nick just shoves his hand in his hair and tilts his head and does his best pout. The one he's spent maybe the odd hour or two perfecting with Kate in the mirror. He's pretty proud of it.

"Maybe I'm the kept one at home," Louis continues. "Spending my days watching the Kardashians and waiting for you to come home and wait on me."

"No," Nick says, although he has a brief flash of the two of them curled up on his sofa together, watching the Kardashians and laughing at everything while they argue over whose turn it is to make tea. It's surprisingly domestic and Nick feels a tiny ache right in the middle of his chest. "You five will probably be thrusting your rhythmless hips at fangirls and fanboys well into your sixties. The next Rolling Stones, I reckon."

Louis keeps his mouth shut though, so Nick just grins and leans in a bit slowly, his arms reaching around Louis and gathering him in for a brief hug before he steps back and avoids Louis' gaze. "Well, goodnight, popstar. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Nick."

Nick escapes, taking a deep breath when he steps into the hall and closes his eyes for a moment before he disappears upstairs to his own bedroom. He gets through his nightly routine in record time and falls into bed face first. Which was definitely a mistake because his pillow smells like Tom Ford's Neroli Portofino, which is how he learns that Louis has more expensive tastes than Nick had ever realised.

He also doesn't lift his head from the pillow as his hand slips down into his pyjama pants and he jerks himself off tightly to Louis' scent and only feels a little guilty when he comes, squeezing his eyes shut as he bites back a moan that he thinks might have carried Louis' name if he'd let it escape.

What a fucking day.

*

Nick wakes up feeling tired, cranky and out of sorts. He'd tossed and turned for hours, his mind whirling with thoughts and questions and a strange sort of fear tinged with hope that Louis would still be around in the morning. The thought of Louis disappearing back to the future before he got a chance to learn a little bit more about this Louis had him still wide awake at 3am. He'd nearly gotten out of bed a few times to tiptoe down the hall to make sure Louis was still there, but he'd forced himself to stay in bed and try to fall asleep. Besides, he can hear Louis moving around, which should be annoying since Louis knows he has to be up early except Nick's just stupidly grateful that it means Louis' still here.

Nick's eyes feel gritty as he reaches over for his alarm clock to turn it off. He rolls out of bed and reminds himself that he's a professional and 30 years old now with responsibilities, so he can't stay at home and skip work to play with his husband from the future, no matter how much he wants to.

Nick tugs on a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth while he tries to style his hair into some vague semblance of style but gives up when it just keeps flopping down awkwardly.

He finishes cleaning his teeth and grabs his things, pausing long enough to straighten his duvet covers before quietly moving through the flat. He stops at the living room door and pokes his head around, heart pounding as his gaze zeroes in on Louis' sleeping form. Learning that his future husband sleeps curled up, like he's trying to take up the smallest amount of room or protecting himself, is probably too much information that he doesn't know how to deal with at 5:30 in the morning.

There goes Nick's bigger bed theory.

Nick's always thought everyone looks peaceful when they're sleeping. Louis, on the other hand, is frowning and his fists are bunched around the duvet like he's holding on for dear life. There's a book open on the floor, and Nick thinks it's the one on polar bears that Daisy had convinced him to buy because apparently everyone loves polar bears and she'd told Nick that he needed to know more about them. Nick had clearly been drunk or high on cough medicine when he'd bought it because he remembers feeling like Daisy had made perfect sense at the time. It's surprising how many of his memories follow the same path, which is how he'd ended up with half the crap in his flat that he never used and never intended to use.

Nick steps back and quietly closes the door behind him, tiptoeing out the front door and slipping into the waiting car.

*

The show isn't one of his best, he'll admit. He'd been distracted, yawning through most of the songs and about halfway through, Matt had suggested that they let the music do the talking for the rest of the show. It's a strategy normally saved for when Nick's hungover or had a long weekend, but it's a good call today so he speaks less and thanks their scheduling for not having to deal with guests today.

He'd played Steal My Girl during the 8-8.30 slot because that's their peak time and tried not to think about the boy he's got tucked away at home. Except he's not really a boy, Nick supposes as he sips at his fifth cup of coffee as the show winds down towards 10am. He'd be about 26, he reckons. Which just reminds him that Louis would have got married at 23 and he tries not to freak out about how young that is or how many times he'd joked about young celebrities getting married and how their marriage wouldn't last.

Showquizness had almost been a disaster when Harry and Niall came up as options but Nick had forced himself to brush past it as quickly as possible and then disappeared for a loo break while a song played so he could pull himself together.

The show thankfully comes to an end finally and he sits through three meetings back-to-back at the station, trying not to be too obvious when his gaze keeps flicking to the giant clock on the wall or glancing at his phone and wishing the minutes away. His responses are a bit shit, he knows, but he's got a situation at home that he needs to go back to and maybe he can pick up lunch for them on the way home if he can get out of here in the next ten minutes.

"I don't know what's up with you today but just-" Matt pauses and waves at the door.

"Thanks Finchy," he says fervently, gathering his things and racing for the door, dignity long forgotten.

He doesn't even mind that someone gets a few pap shots of him looking an utter state as he darts across the street and into the Waitrose, picking up an assortment of food since he doesn't know what Louis likes yet and heads home with four bulging plastic bags that he's certain are going to rip before he gets home.

Nick has to put the bags on the ground so he can unlock the front door but as soon as he steps inside, Louis' there, keeping himself out of sight until Nick closes the world out and then Louis' grabbing the bags from him and heading for the kitchen.

"Thank god, I'm starving and your kitchen is empty," Louis says as he heads down the hall. "How was work?"

Nick just looks up in time to see Louis' arse before he disappears, now in a different pair of joggers and Nick's Team Grimmy shirt that he can't remember seeing for years. It hangs loose on his shoulders and stops mid-thigh and it's an incredibly distracting sight. "It was a bit shit actually," Nick says, toeing off his shoes and following Louis into the kitchen. He finds Louis emptying the bags but not putting anything away so he opens a few cupboards and makes a start. "Kind of distracted by my little secret at home." He catches a flash of Louis' grin. "Hey, where did you find that shirt?"

Louis pauses from where he's ripping open a bag of lightly salted kettle chips. "Oh," he says, a frown marring that beautiful face of his. "Sorry. Was I not allowed to wear it?"

"No, course you can," Nick says quickly. He's frozen in the middle of the room, a jar of pickle in one hand and a tin of tuna in the other. "I just haven't seen it in a while, that's all."

"It was at the back of your wardrobe, under a million pairs of boots and a bowler hat that smelled a bit dubious to be honest," Louis says. He's still frowning though and he looks a bit lost.

"Hey, no," Nick says, softening his voice and shoving the jar and tin in the wrong cupboard so he's got a free pair of hands. He reaches over for Louis, his touch cautious as he closes his hands around Louis' wrists and takes a moment to wonder at how delicate they seem under his big, clumsy hands. "You can have whatever you like. What's mine is yours, right? Or it will be in a few months, anyway." The frown eases into a small smile and Nick heaves a silent sigh of relief. "Besides," he continues in a quieter voice, "it looks great on you."

"Thanks," Louis says, flushing slightly before he turns back to shove a handful of crisps into his mouth. "Want some?"

"Oh my god, what've I married?" Nick asks, blinking at how much food Louis' just fit in his mouth. Which leads him to just flat out staring at Louis' mouth and he can feel his dick stirring. Embarrassed, he grabs another bag and spins around, busying himself with putting things away.

"Yep," Louis says cheerfully.

They cobble together sandwiches between them while Louis questions Nick on what he did at work and Nick tries to remember what he did all morning because it was mostly a blur. He's thrown by Louis' genuine interest in everything, from how Matt and Fiona were to what his favourite songs are at the moment and what songs does he want to play right now but can't because of stupid playlist rules.

Nick's surprised at how much he enjoys talking to Louis about his day but he does. Louis gives him his full attention, which was unnerving at first but soon Nick finds himself craving it and yet isn't sure what to do with Louis' attention when he has it. There's a horrible merry-go-round of anxiety and ego and joy and desperation that Nick lives with on a daily basis and Louis brings all of them out in spades.

"Oh, Eileen called for you earlier, she left a message on the house phone," Louis says when they're finished with lunch, empty plates in front of them and yet Nick still can't find it in him to move. "I think she's going to guilt you into visiting them soon."

Hearing Louis talk about his mum with such familiarity might be the strangest thing that's happened to him yet. "I'll call her back later," Nick says. "I don't know why she doesn't call my mobile."

"Habit, probably," Louis says with a shrug. "Liam's gran calls his house phone and leaves messages all the time. He comes back to like, hundreds of messages at a time when he's been on tour. He's tried explaining it to her but she still calls his landline."

"His poor gran probably thinks he's a terrible grandson for not calling her back," Nick says. He's met Liam a few times and aside from some questionable enthusiasm that quite frankly scares him in its sheer exuberance, he thinks Liam's a nice lad. They all are.

"Nah, he calls her once a week on tour and pretends he's got her messages," Louis says. "He's gotten really good at it."

"So what've you gotten really good at since you became famous then?" Nick asks. He's genuinely curious.

"Pretending to sing," Louis says immediately, before he makes a face. "Sorry. I'm trying not to do that anymore. Harry won't talk to me when I do it and Liam makes this face that makes me want to claw my own face off."

Nick stays silent, but the information goes into his Louis compartment in his mind, which is rapidly filling up with all kinds of information and knowledge that he's greedily snatching up.

"Um, I'm good at buying presents to ease my guilt for not being around as much," Louis says finally. It's sad and yet said so matter-of-factly that Nick feels his heart clench. "Doris and Ernest are basically, oh that's my youngest brother and sister. They're twins. But yeah, they don't really know me. They tend to cling to Mum when I come home."

"Must be hard," Nick murmurs. Louis shrugs as he starts drumming gently against the table with his fingers. A nervous habit, Nick realises. "Hey, help me wash up?"

"I'm not your servant, Nick," Louis protests immediately. It's followed by a quick grin though and Nick wonders if maybe they do this a lot. He's noticed that Louis hasn't bothered to put the duvet in the living room away and he's fully expecting to go upstairs and find the bathroom in a mess where Louis' used it.

Louis doesn't help wash up but by the time Nick's done, the living room is clear and the duvet is at least folded up haphazardly next to Louis on the sofa. Pig's sitting next to him, mouth open as she pants excitedly while Louis strokes her head.

"So did you two formally introduce yourselves then?" Nick asks as he plonks himself down on the other sofa. He's got to do some research work on Sweat The Small Stuff so he grabs his laptop and settles himself comfortably.

"Best of friends aren't we girl?" Louis says, lifting Pig onto his lap. "You got her recently, right?"

"Few months ago," Nick agrees. He glances over and his gaze softens as he watches Louis cuddle her to his chest and almost melts at the way Pig flops her head onto Louis' shoulder. "She's great. I need to take her for a walk in a bit."

Louis nods before he reaches for a book tucked under the duvet that Nick hadn't seen before. This one's a biography of Dolly Parton, given to him by Henry a few birthdays ago. He's never read it but he's flicked through the pictures. He raises an eyebrow and Louis just grins back at him. "It's good," is all he says. Nick laughs as he turns back to his laptop and starts researching.

After two hours of sneaking looks at Louis and quickly looking away if Louis so much as blinks in case he gets caught, Nick gives up on his research and yawns, stretching his arms up wide.

"God you must be so bored," Nick says, breaking the comfortable silence that's drifted over them. Louis looks up in surprise and Nick spreads his arms out to encompass the room. "You can't leave the house or talk to anyone or do anything. Aren't you bored?"

Louis' eyebrows knit together and he looks completely bemused. "No," he says simply.

"Right," Nick says with a blink of surprise. He gets to his feet and heads for the door. "C'mon Pig. Let's take you out. We'll be back in about an hour."

Louis hums as Pig races for the front door and Nick spares Louis one last confused, slightly exasperated look before he grabs Pig's leash and puts it on her. He shrugs on a coat and puts on a pair of boots before he leaves the house, his hand stilling momentarily as he goes to shut the door before he pulls it to and heads off on their favourite route, hands shoved in his pockets as he keeps his head down and his feet drag just a little.

*

Nick opens the front door with a wince, hearing a clatter followed by a loud bang coming from the kitchen. He's been longer than he promised because Colette called and he met her for a drink that turned into two drinks and a muffin he definitely shouldn't have had before dinner.

He lets Pig off her lead and takes off his outer layers, padding quietly towards the noise.

The kitchen is in a state. It looks like Louis' pulled everything out of the cupboards, and he means everything. There's pots and pans and plates, food is piled haphazardly everywhere and he grabs at a bag of flour that looks like it's going to take a tumbling nosedive off the counter. Louis' in the middle of everything, sleeves rolled up and looking pretty pleased with himself.

"Hey," he says cheerfully. "You've been ages."

It doesn't _sound_ like a rebuke but Nick errs on the side of caution anyway because he's got a good sense of self-preservation. "Yeah, sorry. I bumped into Collette and she wanted to go for coffee. It uh, looks like you've kept yourself busy though."

"Just putting everything in its proper place," Louis says, like that makes any sense at all. Nick watches in fascination as Louis picks up a stack of plates that looks precarious at best and puts them where the cereal used to be.

"In its proper place?" Nick echoes eventually when half the cupboards are restocked in entirely different ways to how they'd been this morning. Or the many mornings before that.

"Trust me, this is how everything winds up anyway so you're best off learning to live with it sooner rather than later," Louis says, like _that_ makes any sense either. "Now everything's in its right place."

Nick has to admit that having his mugs directly above the kettle is an improvement, so he lets Louis get on with it. Besides, he still thinks it might be punishment for being out for so long, so he lets it slide for now.

*

Nick's woken up to the sound of china being banged together. A glance at his alarm clock tells him it's 2.38 am which is far too early for anyone to be banging plates around, and especially when someone in the house has to be up in less than three hours and has had very little sleep for the past two nights.

He throws back his covers and stomps into the kitchen where Louis is making tea.

"Louis," Nick begins, his temper fraying in a way that it very rarely does. "What-"

Louis spins around, looking both horrified and sheepish somehow. Then his gaze drops and Nick's suddenly very aware that he's only in his boxers. He refuses to try and cover himself, although he probably should have done a few sit ups before bedtime since he's going to be marrying a popstar and all. And as Louis is only wearing Nick's boxers, Nick's getting an eyeful of exactly just how lucky he's going to get. Louis' tan appears to be an all-over state of affairs, which he's definitely going to ask Louis about at some point when he's not annoyed and Louis isn't blatantly staring at him.

"Sorry," Louis murmurs eventually when the tension in the room is just about at suffocating levels for Nick. "I just wanted to make tea. Couldn't sleep."

Nick takes a proper look at Louis, who's got dark circles around his eyes and visible strain that makes Nick swallow back his retort. "Not sure tea will help with that, Lou," he says. The nickname just slips out and he's not sure if it's Harry's influence or not, but it's out there now and Louis softens just a little, putting his mug back down onto the counter, tea unmade.

Nick's not entirely sure what to do with him. He doesn't know how to cope with a soft, sleepy, exhausted-looking sad popstar who can't sleep on Nick's couch because he's probably used to sleeping in Nick's bed. In their bed. He doesn't know how to deal with a Louis who's staring at him with a mix of hunger and sadness and need that Nick can't begin to comprehend, especially when he's used to being barely tolerated by Louis in the here and now.

"You should go back to bed," Louis says. He makes a move towards the door and stops just short of Nick, his arm half raised as if he was going to reach for Nick's hand. Louis lets his hand drop and his shoulders seem to slump just a little before he walks through the door, leaving Nick to follow. "I'm sorry for waking you up. I know you hate it. I'm not normally that clumsy."

"It's probably just because you're tired," Nick tells him. He hesitates for a moment before he pulls Louis into a hug, trying not to be quite so aware of Louis' bare chest pressed against his or how his dick is pressed into Louis' belly, only separated by a thin layer of cotton. All thoughts go flying out of his mind though when he feels Louis' arms tentatively sliding around his waist, small palms pressing against his back as Louis sighs into his shoulder.

Louis' surprisingly soft, for all the solid, toned muscle Nick can feel on him. His heart beats loudly in his chest as he strokes his hand up and down Louis' back. Louis' hair is tickling his cheek but he doesn't mind, or the scratchiness of Louis' unshaven jaw against his skin. "You should get some sleep," Nick tells him when he reluctantly pulls back. "I'm out with Collette and Henry after work for some fashion thing Henry wants us to go to until the evening, so sleep as much as you can, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Louis says, sounding like he's in a bit of a daze. Nick manages a smile before he turns around and heads back to his room. "Hey, Nick?" Louis calls softly. Nick turns, eyebrows raised in question. "I miss your dick."

Nick blinks and his hands move to cover his boxers unconsciously, although when he thinks about it he has no idea why he does that. But his cheeks flush and the corner of his lips curve into a tiny smile.

"And you're really fit," Louis continues. "I won't tell you that though until our six month anniversary, so I thought I should just say it now. So you know. For all those times I don't say it when we get together. You're fit and gorgeous and I really, really like your body. I like how tall you are and that you can pin me down against the bed. Or hold me up against the kitchen counter. I like your hair because I can tug on it, although I like it better when it's shorter. I just. I like everything about you and you should know that. Even when I don't say it. Because I'm stupid and young and insecure about us. But now you know. And you can give younger me a pass sometimes. Because younger me really, really fancies you and has for longer than you'd probably suspect. So just. You know. Keep that in mind."

"Christ, Lou," Nick croaks out before he rubs his hand over his face and closes his eyes. "Shit. I don't know how to deal with you. I don't know how to deal with this whole situation." He opens his eyes to find Louis watching him, his eyes hooded and he's leaning against the doorframe. "But I can see it though. Us, I mean. I can see it now."

"Goodnight Nick," is all Louis says, his voice low enough that it seems like a whisper.

"Goodnight, Lou," Nick replies before he ducks into his room and closes the door, collapsing back against it as he shoves his hand into his pants. He tips his head back against the wood and closes his eyes, jerking himself off hard and fast, remembering Louis' words and the way he'd looked Nick up and down in the kitchen and practically licked his lips in hunger. "Oh god," he mutters, his thumb brushing over his slit and smearing precome down his shaft for lubrication. His free hand grabs the handle to steady himself as he starts to shake, fisting himself faster as he remembers the feel of Louis' rough jaw against his smooth skin.

When he comes, his orgasm hits him hard and he gasps, biting down on his bottom lip as he tries to muffle himself, his boxers sodden and sticky as he slides down to the floor and tries to remember how to breathe.

*

The alarm wakes him up this time and he stumbles out of bed and manages to brush his teeth, do his hair and get dressed in the skinny jeans and shirt he'd put out the previous night before he realises there's a scent of coffee filling the apartment. Mouth watering at the smell of freshly brewed ground coffee beans, Nick follows his nose to the kitchen, where Louis' sitting at the table yawning with a steaming cup of coffee waiting in front of the chair opposite him.

"Louis," Nick says before he stops, unable to find the words.

"You're welcome," Louis says with a tired grin. "Least I could do after waking you up. I didn't make breakfast because I thought you'd want to get it at work."

Nick slides into the waiting seat even though the driver is probably outside and waiting for him. Just this once, he thinks. Just this once he's going to be a tiny bit selfish and have this quiet moment for himself.

Lifting the mug to his lips, he takes a sip and nearly cries as the coffee slides down his throat, smooth and rousing for his tired system. "This is amazing," he murmurs. He grins over at Louis, who looks half-asleep but pleased. "The best way to be woken up I reckon," he says, smiling into his cup as Louis yawns and scratches his head, his hair tousled and soft from sleep.

"Not the _best_ way though," Louis mutters and Nick almost spits out his coffee. Louis' grinning at him, his arms folded against his chest and he suddenly looks much more awake. Nick definitely feels more awake and he's got an awkward half-semi to prove it.

"You're a bloody menace," Nick manages to say before he takes a gulp of coffee.

"You're the one that married me," Louis points out, still looking smug.

Nick downs the rest of his coffee and carries the mug to the sink, rinsing it out quickly before he turns to find Louis standing in front of him, arms wrapped around himself. "Have a good day at work then," Louis says. "Don't forget to play the record. And be nice about Harry today."

"Well I mean I'll do my best but he just makes it so easy," Nick says solemnly. He's trying not to stare at Louis' mouth or to wonder what it'd be like to kiss Louis. To fold Louis up in his arms and kiss him stupid every morning after sharing a cup of coffee. "Try not to get too bored without my sparkling company."

"I won't even notice you're gone," Louis points out easily. "Pig's better company than you."

"Sad but probably true," Nick says on an exaggerated sigh. "Right, I've really got to go. Have a good day, popstar."

"You too, Nick. Have a good day," Louis says.

It's harder than it should be after just two days, Nick thinks. Hard to head to the door and walk through it, closing Louis inside and leaving him. Nick does it though, if only to prove to himself that he can.

And maybe he spends the quick car journey on his phone, scrolling through Google images of Louis and trying to reconcile the two versions he knows into one boy who's bound for him.

*

The house is a mess. Pig races down the hallway towards him, tongue lolling out and he scoops her up for a cuddle as he steps over Louis' Vans, which have somehow found themselves scattered across the hall. He can see empty mugs and glasses on the side of the kitchen as well as a bowl and two plates.

"What's Lou been up to then Pig?" Nick asks before he bursts into giggles.

"Had a few drinks then," Louis says as he appears in the doorway, in Nick's joggers and back in the Team Grimmy shirt. "Must've been a good event."

"Brilliant," Nick agrees easily. "Christ, you're really fit."

"Thanks," Louis says dryly. "Christ you're wankered."

"I have a fit husband," Nick carries on, reaching out to grab at Louis' t-shirt and dragging him closer. Louis lets him, his face reflecting his amusement. "My lovely fit husband. Who likes my body and my face. And sometimes my hair."

Louis pulls a face and lifts his hands to tangle them in Nick's hair. He's being gentle and Nick's hands slide around Louis' waist, settling on his hips and letting his thumbs brush in wide circles under Louis' shirt. "We should get you to bed," he murmurs.

"Yes, take me to bed, Louis Tomlinson," Nick says grandly with a flourish before he starts laughing again. "Or is it Louis Grimshaw? Did you take my name then when we got hitched?"

"What if you took my name though?" Louis asks as he steers Nick towards his bedroom.

"Nick Tomlinson," he murmurs. "Mister Nick Tomlinson. Breakfast DJ Nick Tomlinson. I mean, it sounds weird but yeah, okay, I guess. Whatever my darling hubby wants."

"I wish you were always this amenable, you drunk wanker," Louis mutters.

Nick finds himself being manhandled and stripped carefully down to his boxers. His favourite Hannah Montana t-shirt appears out of nowhere and Louis helps him into bed before disappearing.

"I think I might be sick," Nick says to the empty room as he stares up at his ceiling. "Bollocks."

Louis reappears at some point and Nick finds himself with a glass of water and some painkillers.

"It'll help," Louis tells him and waits, eyebrow cocked, until Nick's swallowed everything. "I've set your alarm for the morning and I'll grab another glass of water if you wake up in the night. It's only 8pm so you've got plenty of time to sleep it off babe, okay?"

"I like it when you call me babe," Nick slurs into his pillow where he's hugging it. He feels Louis' hand settle in his hair, stroking gently and he feels like purring. With his eyes closed, the room's stopped spinning finally and he feels a little less like he might throw up. "I like you looking after me. S'nice to be looked after for once."

"I know, babe," Louis murmurs. His voice sounds a bit scratchy and Nick reaches out blindly, grabbing at Louis' other hand and squeezing it tight. "I know you're lonely right now babe, but I'll be here in four months. You've just gotta hold on til then, okay? And I won't leave you alone, not even for a minute. I'm gonna bombard you with a million texts and calls all day, every day. You won't know it at first, but it's because I don't want you to forget me when I'm not around. Or have time to find someone else who's less annoying or demanding. But it's okay because you'll get used to it, I promise."

"You got me my favourite shirt," Nick mutters into the pillow. "I wish you could stay until New Year when my Louis turns up."

"Go to sleep babe," Louis says. Nick curls up around the pillow and sighs heavily. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep, yeah?"

"Yeah," Nick says, half-asleep already. "Yeah, stay with me. Please."

He feels a shift on the bed and a brush of lips against his forehead. He smiles into his pillow and drifts off to sleep.

*

Somehow Nick manages to get to work on time. He'd just had time to check on Louis who had been fast asleep on the sofa, Pig sleeping on Louis' belly which he'd been dying to take a picture of to keep, but of course he can't because someone could stumble across the photo and raise legitimately worrying questions about why Nick has a photo of Louis Tomlinson asleep with his dog on his sofa.

He must have a dopey look on his face because Matt keeps giving him odd looks. Nick breezes through the show though, extremely aware that it's a Friday and he's got nothing planned this weekend, or at least he doesn't now since he'd cancelled on Pixie and rearranged a lunch date with Collette on Sunday. He's got a whole weekend to spend with Louis with no interruptions, no work, no meetings, no nothing.

He can't bloody wait.

Nick's out of the doors of Radio One by 10.37am exactly, which is 36 minutes longer than he wanted to stay but he got caught by Charlie on his way out and that was that. But he jumps in a cab rather than walking home and he's feeling giddy and excited by the time he's fumbling with the key in his front lock.

"Lou?" he calls out as he steps inside, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. He pads into the front room which is still dark with the curtains drawn to find Louis asleep, curled up with Pig and the radio playing softly in the background. He can hear Fearne chatting about the Teen Awards and it makes him grin because the radio definitely hadn't been on this morning when he left. Louis waking up to turn on his show and falling asleep to Nick's voice on the radio is making his heart do funny things in his chest.

He's not sure how long he stands there just watching Louis sleep (and he's not sure if that's creepy or sweet to be honest) before Pig's head lifts and she blinks slowly up at Nick. He grabs her, pulling her carefully away from Louis who's huffing softly in his sleep and heads for the kitchen. Nick boils the kettle and makes tea. He's still learning how to make it just the way Louis likes it but he's obviously getting better as the wincing isn't so prominent and he's pretty certain he's going to smash it this time.

Nick doesn't want to wake up one morning and find Louis gone from his life. Settling into a domestic routine with Louis has been easier than he ever thought possible. He really doesn't want to wait four months to have this. Nick wants Louis now, any way he can have him.

He carries two mugs back into the living room, Pig dancing through his legs and doing her best to trip him up but he makes it safely, placing the mugs down on the table and turning to rest a hand on Louis' shoulder.

"Lou?" he murmurs, endeared when Louis' face screws up and he huffs out a loud sigh before his eyes open and focus on Nick. "Good morning."

"Hey," Louis says, his voice thick with sleep. "You're back early. I was going to make lunch."

"I think it's probably my turn, since you looked after me last night," Nick says, keeping his voice light. "And I made you tea."

"You made me tea," Louis repeats, sitting up and making grabby hands at Nick. Laughing, Nick hands him the mug and feels a bit smug when Louis takes a sip and doesn't make a face at all. "Still needs to steep a bit longer, but you're getting there. You'll be an expert by the time I turn up in January."

Nick's face must drop a little before Louis' leaning forward, reaching for Nick's hand. "Hey. I'll be here in a few months. That's all. Then you'll never get rid of me and wonder why you even wished those months of peace and quiet away."

Nick turns his hand so their fingers slot together, fascinated by the way Louis' much smaller hand fits so nicely in his. "You tidied up," he says. "And the house smells like washing powder."

"I might have been a little bored yesterday," Louis admits before he takes a gulp of tea. "Since I know my mess annoys you. It's still annoying you in 2017 by the way. You should probably get used to it now, to be honest."

"What about the telly then, do we still argue over that in 2017?" Nick asks, shifting Louis' legs so he can sit back more comfortably against the sofa. After a moment, Louis slides his legs over Nick's lap and neither of them say anything when Nick settles his hand on Louis' calf, his grip light and loose.

"Sometimes," Louis allows with a smile. "You still watch trash. When Liam comes over, I've got no chance of watching anything decent, it's all reality telly and that crap."

"Since you got your big break on a reality show, you'd think you'd be a bit more respectful of your origins, young Louis," Nick says archly.

"Not that young," Louis points out. "Besides, X Factor doesn't count. Neither does Big Brother. It's those other ones you love, the US ones. They're awful."

"Hey," Nick protests. "That's quality telly, that is. Maybe I married the wrong boybander here. Maybe I should be focusing on Liam. Smart young man, that one. Gorgeous, too."

"Don't you dare," Louis says, his voice surprisingly sharp as he glares at Nick.

"Hey, I'm only kidding love," Nick says. He squeezes Louis' leg in reassurance. "Tell you what. You can pick what we watch tonight. I won't complain at all."

Louis just stares at him until Nick starts to feel a little unnerved and he moves his hand away from Louis' leg. "You're staying in tonight?"

"Yeah," Nick says slowly, his eyebrows knitted into a frown. "Why? Where else would I be?"

"I just assumed you'd be out," Louis says. "I guess I thought you'd have plans."

"Nope, I'm all yours," Nick says with a grin before he waggles his eyebrows. "Tonight and forever."

"You're such a dick," Louis tells him. Nick just laughs and settles his hand back on Louis' leg, stroking from his knee to his ankle and back again. "There's not anyone else, you know. After I break up with El. You're the only one."

Nick's hand pauses as he glances at Louis, who's looking right back at him with a strange intensity that Nick's starting to recognise in his future husband. "Wouldn't matter if there was, love," he says lightly. "I wouldn't care. We're barely more than acquaintances right now. I mean, to my Louis. The one that's in the US."

"I just thought you should know," Louis says anyway. "You're not a rebound. And it's alright if you wanna shag someone. When I leave. Before your Louis turns up. Like, if you want to sow your wild oats or whatever. I'll hate it, but like you said. We're not together yet."

Nick can't even think about dating someone else when he knows what's waiting for him. "I won't," he says simply. "Couldn't even imagine it."

He sees the smile tugging at the corners of Louis' lips and he flushes, feeling his own smile grow. "Okay, enough of this mushiness. I've got to do some work, will you be alright amusing yourself for a few hours?"

"Sure," Louis says, handing his mug back to Nick and standing up, yawning as he stretches. Nick sees a glimpse of tanned skin and a toned belly. "I need to shower then I'll make lunch, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me," Nick tells him and watches as Louis pads out of the room before he throws himself down on the duvet that smells like Louis and smothers himself with it. "January," he mutters to himself. "Hurry the fuck up."

*

Louis chooses to watch Coronation Street, to Nick's amusement. "We're watching Gogglebox too," Louis tells him.

"Love a bit of Gogglebox," Nick answers as he puts down the Chinese takeaway on the living room table. They'd had a bit of an argument over sweet and sour chicken versus sweet and sour pork, with Nick winning in the end but he'd also conceded to a half duck instead of a quarter duck so he reckons he's learning to do this whole give and take relationship thing pretty well, considering.

Louis settles himself on the floor opposite Nick, who takes a seat on the sofa while they eat. Louis, he learns, likes to give a running commentary on soaps and has a surprisingly good memory for past storylines.

Nick's still laughing when he clears the plates and boxes away and puts the kettle on to make tea. When he comes back into the room, Louis' sitting on the sofa next to where Nick had been sitting. Nick sits next to him and hands Louis his tea. They sip in silence, interrupted by the odd laugh as they watch Would I Lie To You while they wait for Gogglebox to start.

When Nick's finished his tea, he settles back against the sofa and puts his elbow on the armrest. After a moment, he offers his hand to Louis, who stares at his open palm for a beat before he's grabbing at it and squeezing a little too hard. Nick's pretty proud of himself for not squeaking because honestly he's terrible with pain but he just focuses back on the telly and holds Louis' hand. Just a regular Friday night, he tells himself with a silent laugh.

Louis shifts and tucks his feet under Nick's thigh, shooting Nick a quick, shy glance. Nick smiles at him, helplessly charmed because he thinks this might be something they do, the two of them. It's pretty damned nice to cuddle up with a cute boy on a Friday night and know that this is a thing they could be doing every Friday night when they don't have work commitments or if they're not busy with friends or their families.

That's how they stay for the rest of the night, until Nick's yawning and trying to keep his eyes open and Louis' laughing at him for being a tired old man.

"Not that old," Nick protests. He stands up though, reluctantly giving up his hold on Louis' hand and smothering another yawn. "Shut up."

"Goodnight, Nick," Louis says, giving him a gentle shove towards the door. "I'll clear up. And I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Goodnight, Lou," Nick says. "Sleep tight. Sweet dreams."

Nick closes the door behind him with the sight of Louis' smirk etched into his brain. He all but falls into bed, just about managing to drag his Hannah Montana shirt on and pyjama pants before his head hits the pillow and he's out like a goddamn light.

*

The soft knock on his door wakes Nick up and he blinks sleepily at the alarm clock that's flashing 3.31am.

Louis' head appears around the door, squinting towards the bed and Nick sits up, turning on the bedside light.

"Everything alright?" Nick asks, rubbing at his eyes. "What's up?"

Louis steps into the room and crawls onto the foot of Nick's bed, bending his knees so he can hug them. He looks small and cute and Nick wants him. God, Nick wants him.

"I know I've probably already told you too much," Louis starts. He pauses and bites his bottom lip, gnawing on it until it's pink and plump. Nick swallows a whimper. "But I just wanted to uh, thank you. For not being a dick. I mean, you could have been when you found me in your bed that morning. But you've been great. Amazing, actually. And I know I definitely wouldn't have been, if it'd been you who'd travelled back and turned up in America, telling me that we were married and together. So yeah. I wanted to tell you that I knew I made the right choice when I married you, even if I treat it like a joke. It's not. It's so fucking not a joke."

Nick doesn't know what to say. He never knows what to say when Louis does this because it sometimes feels like too much. Like he can't imagine this is real, that someone loves him this much. But here Louis is, not telling him in so many words but it's so bloody blatantly obvious that Nick doesn't know what to do with himself or Louis.

So he lifts up the covers and watches Louis' face as his expression shifts from hesitant to hopeful and back to hesitant again before he crawls into bed next to Nick. Nick wraps his arms around Louis, trying to give him a cuddle but it's mostly just sharp elbows and awkward knees. After a minute, Louis lets out a huff and turns around, rearranging Nick into a different position before he flops down next to him and oh, yeah, okay. This works much better. Nick pulls him closer and lets himself relax as Louis snuggles into his side, his hand splayed over Nick's belly.

"I think I made a fucking excellent choice myself," he whispers when he's certain Louis' fallen asleep, breathing deeply next to him and Louis' breath warm against his neck where Louis' buried his face. "January needs to hurry the hell up."

He falls asleep with his hand curled around Louis' hip and his thumb tucked into the waistband of Louis' joggers.

*

Nick wakes up alone, without a trace of Louis in the apartment. He folds Louis' duvet away, reluctant to wash the sheets that carry Louis' scent. He spends the entire day watching One Direction videos on YouTube and devouring every hilarious, annoying, serious thing Louis says.

He goes to bed alone and counts how many days there are until New Years Eve.

Too fucking many.

*

Louis wakes up disorientated. It takes him a few minutes to realise that Nick's hair is shorter and his clothes are lying on the bedroom floor. His actual own clothes, and not just ones he's borrowed from Nick.

"Nick," Louis says urgently, grabbing his husbands face and shaking him gently. "Nick, wake the fuck up."

"Hey," Nick protests as his eyes slowly open and he pouts. "We've talked about this. No abrupt wake ups unless there's coffee or blowjobs involved."

"God I've fucking missed you," Louis breathes and he ducks down to press his lips against Nick's. Nick opens up immediately and Louis kisses him fiercely, wanting to brand himself onto Nick's lips.

"I'm right here," Nick manages to say between kisses. His hands are on Louis' hips and he's trying to manoeuvre Louis over him while Louis' trying to scramble closer and somehow they work it. "Hey, what's up?"

"Something fucking crazy happened," Louis says, shaking his head before he kisses Nick again. God, he's missed Nick's stupid mouth.

"Oh," Nick says, his eyes going wide. "Was this the day? When you went back?"

Louis blinks at him, too surprised to speak.

"Louis, I was there, remember?" Nick says patiently but he reaches up to nuzzle his face into Louis' neck. "You appeared in my bed one beautiful September morning and told me that I'd get to have this annoying little pest as my husband forever and all I had to do was wait four months."

"You knew," Louis manages to say, his voice strangled. "This whole time we've been together. You knew."

"Well, I knew a few things," Nick counters, pressing a soothing kiss to Louis' jaw. "I didn't know that we'd get married because I dared you to on April Fool's Day. I didn't know that you'd make me come so hard that first time we had sex that I almost passed out. I didn't know that we'd spend a whole week arguing over our house in Ibiza because I didn't want you to think that I was with you because you're ridiculously rich. I mean, we both know it's because your dick is really nice and no other reason, right?"

"But you knew," Louis says, not even listening to what Nick's saying. "I don't. Fuck. I don't know how to feel about this, Nick."

Nick brushes a soft thumb against Louis' lips and stares up at him with a small smile. "I married you because I fell in love with you, you twat. I fell in love with all the different sides of you. The facade. The reality. The future. I love all of them, Lou. Don't ever doubt that, okay? I chose you. I'll always choose you, in whatever reality we're in."

"You're such a dick," Louis says before he dives forward and snogs Nick's face off. God he's missed this so fucking much. His heart feels like it might burst.

When they come up for air, Nick's hair messy and sticking out in all directions and Louis looking smug as he licks Nick's come off his fingers, Louis rests his head on Nick's shoulder and just breathes. "I married you because I loved you. I wasn't going to say no, even if I had to pretend it was all some big joke. I married you because I'm a selfish person, Nick. I wanted you and I couldn't give you the chance to leave me."

"While I made it sound like a joke because I was worried you'd say no," Nick says with a laugh. "Even though I knew we got married in April, I was still terrified you'd say no. And I didn't want to ever give you up. You're not the only selfish one here, love."

"You're definitely the most selfish," Louis says, but there's no heat behind his words. He's too relaxed and relieved to be home with his Nick, who he can kiss and molest and demand blowjobs from, even when Louis is being awful.

"I knew when I came home and found you and Pig asleep on my sofa, listening to Radio One," Nick says softly. "Listening to my show because you wanted to hear my voice. And you were wearing my joggers and my shirt and you just looked like you belonged to me, you know? I wanted to come home to that every day. Even if I'd have to wait another six months. I wanted it so bloody badly."

"Me too," Louis says fiercely, tugging Nick down for another bruising kiss. "I wanted it more than anything, even if I only had to wait two months."

Louis buries his hands in Nick's hair and tugs, sighing happily when Nick whines into his mouth. Home, Louis thinks with relief. He's fucking _home_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Flashback: New Year 2014/5**

Louis' drunk. He's drunk and miserable and trying to convince Harry that he's fine. Louis' pretty sure Harry isn't buying it but he pins a bright smile on his face whenever Harry's around and doesn't let it slip for a second until Harry's gone, being reluctantly dragged away by one of his many friends that Louis can't stand.

It's only when he's certain that Harry's out of the room that Louis sags back against the wall and tips his head back, eyes closed as he taps his warm bottle of beer against his thigh and wishes he was anywhere but here. At a house party on New Year's Eve with people he either doesn't know or doesn't like and not even pleasantly buzzed yet.

Someone bumps into him and his eyes snap open to instantly recognise that stupid bloody hair. "Grimmy," he mutters, half-under his breath. "Mind where you're fucking going."

"Louis," Nick breathes before his expression shifts. "Delightful to run into you as always, Louis," Nick says with a sigh, shoving his hand into his dumb hair while Louis just stares at him. There's an odd look in Nick's eyes that makes Louis' skin prickle. "What are you doing here then? Not got any friends of your own?"

Louis' mouth tightens. Of course he's got mates. But Stan and Ollie are back home in Doncaster while Louis' been in London on band duty. Liam's with Sophia and Niall's gone back to Mullingar for the break. Zayn, of course, is nowhere to be found and Louis respects that. "Harry's my mate," he says. He knows he sounds childish but Christ, Nick can still piss him off with just a look or a word. "I see you're here alone though. Still single then?"

Another inscrutable expression passes over Nick but it's gone before Louis can really capture and analyse it. "Yep, still single. Where's your lovely girlfriend? Finally figured out that she could do better?"

"Fuck you," Louis says as a sharp stab of pain catches his breath and fuck. He thought he was starting to get over Eleanor. At least enough that references to her were starting to get less painful but Nick's words cut right through him.

"Shit," Nick says and his mouth twists. "Hey, I'm sorry. I uh. Harry said something about the two of you. I shouldn't have said anything. That was. Christ. That was mean. Sorry."

"It's fine," Louis says. It's not fine. Everything is fucking awful and the whole bloody world knows he's a fucking failure now. Nick knows he's a failure.

"You're not the only one if that helps," Nick says carefully. His hand is hovering weirdly between them, like he wants to reach out and touch Louis. Comfort him. Louis unconsciously takes a half-step back. "I met a boy recently. Really fell for him, actually. But he disappeared completely out of the blue. We fell asleep in my bed and I woke up to find him gone without a note or anything."

"Sorry your one night stand didn't work out," Louis says dryly. "El and I were together for three years though. Not sure it's quite the same thing, you know."

"No, probably not," Nick says. His gaze darts towards the kitchen before he looks back at Louis. "Well. It is a party though. Wanna get trashed? Lonely fucking hearts club and all?"

Louis' not sure why he nods or follows Nick into the kitchen, accepting the glass of red wine Nick hands him with a wince.

"Trust me," Nick says as he pours himself one too. "This'll get you wankered. Won't remember a thing in a few hours."

Louis takes a gulp and pulls a face. When Nick starts laughing at him, Louis takes another gulp just to shut him up.

Before he knows it, they're drunk and out in the garden, shivering on the patio as Nick lights a cigarette and hands it over to Louis before trying to light one for himself.

"Terrible habit," Nick's saying around his giggles.

Louis laughs, nudging Nick's arm to make it more difficult for him to get the flame over the tip until Nick gives him a hard enough shove to light it. Louis shuffles back next to Nick purely for warmth and they stare out into pitch darkness, the silence filled with the faint beat of whatever song is playing inside.

"I like boys," Louis blurts out. His cheeks flame immediately and he wants to swallow the words he's never said out loud back, but from the way Nick freezes next to him, he knows he can't.

He waits but Nick stays silent. "Say something," Louis says, almost pleadingly as he turns to face Nick. Nick's wearing the oddest expression on his face though. It's almost like he's disgusted, or pained or something and Louis can't bear it. Not when he's just bared his fucking soul in a drunken confession at 11.38pm on New Year's Eve to Nick bloody Grimshaw.

"Fuck," he says before he throws his half-finished cigarette down and flees through the door back into the house. He's pushing his way through the crowd when a hand wraps around his arm and he recognises those rings. Louis turns, a forced smile on his lips as a drunk Harry leans against him.

"Having fun?" Harry slurs, a happy drunk as always.

"Great fun," Louis says sarcastically. "Your Nick Grimshaw is a fucking wanker, Harry. What the hell do you even see in him? He's awful-"

Another hand snakes around his other arm and he finds himself being dragged away from Harry. Stumbling to keep himself upright, he's dragged through the house by Nick, just following helplessly until he's being pushed into what he discovers is a bathroom and he has to put a hand on the sink to keep himself upright.

"Nick, what the fuck? Stop pushing me around," Louis says, a little breathlessly to his mortification. "You and your stupid fucking hair and you-"

He finds himself being kissed. Warm, soft lips press against his and hands settle on Louis' hips, dragging him closer and Christ, he's drunk and needy and he winds his arms around Nick's neck, pulling him down so Louis doesn't have to stretch up on his tiptoes. Nick's lips part and Louis immediately licks into his mouth, a sigh dragged out of him when Nick's thumbs slide under his shirt and stroke his heated skin.

"I can't believe I get to do this," Nick says, and it sounds stupid. It sounds stupid and breathless and full of wonder so Louis kisses him harder until Nick's pulling him closer and Louis' head spins.

"You're sure," Nick says when they pull back. Nick's hair looks even worse now, Louis thinks smugly. It's sticking out all over the place and Nick looks as wrecked as Louis feels. "You're sure about liking boys. About liking me."

Louis' not ready to answer that last question so he surges forward to kiss Nick again, to stop any other scary questions tripping out and he shoves his hand down Nick's jeans, making a pleased sound when he feels Nick's dick straining into his touch.

It's an awkward fight to get Nick's jeans down because Louis refuses to let go of Nick's cock but they finally manage and Louis sinks to his knees, his mouth fucking watering as he stares at Nick's dick for a moment. "Fuck," he murmurs as his heart pounds loudly in his chest, his ears roaring with silence before he ducks down and opens his mouth, swallowing Nick down. Every moan Nick makes goes straight to Louis' dick and he just loses it, wanting more and forcing his throat to open up so he can take what he wants. Nick tastes like sweat and male and Louis just wants to drown in his scent. He whimpers around Nick's dick and it must set Nick off because Nick comes with a broken cry, his hand wrapped around Louis' head and his thumb stroking Louis' hair gently even as he comes hard down Louis' throat.

When he's done, Louis sits back on his heels, painfully hard in his own jeans as he tries to catch his breath. He feels himself being pulled up and he blindly seeks Nick's mouth, kissing him with a desperation that he doesn't know what to do with.

He's aware that Nick's unbuttoning Louis' jeans and he almost sobs when Nick's hand closes around his dick. Louis' not really kissing Nick anymore. It's more like he's panting into his mouth but Nick's solid underneath him and he leans on Nick heavily as he arches into Nick's touch. It's too much. He's drunk and Nick's fisting his dick and god, Nick smells good.

Louis comes with Nick's name on his lips. He comes and Nick kisses him; feverish kisses that taste addictive like a drug.

Nick somehow tidies them both up while Louis' slumped against him but it's pretty obvious what they've been doing. Louis gives up on trying to fix his own hair in the middle and settles for grabbing Nick's ass instead.

"Come on," Nick says. His voice is softer than Louis' heard it before and he can't resist kissing him once more.

"You're awful," Louis tells him because he feels like he should make that clear. He doesn't pull his hand out of Nick's grip though when they leave the bathroom to find the lights on and people toasting in the New Year. A glance at his watch tells him that they spent midnight getting each other off and Louis flushes at the realisation, even as he looks up and catches Harry's eye.

He's laughing, the wanker.

"Let's get another drink," Louis mutters, changing their direction and heading for the kitchen with Nick's hand firmly in his.

Nick pauses and forces Louis to stop in the hallway. He turns to face Nick with a raised eyebrow.

"Happy New Year Louis," Nick says. Louis really wants to kiss him again but it's different, out here. He feels exposed. He is exposed.

"Happy New Year Nick," Louis says.

"Give me your phone," Nick says. When Louis hands it over, unlocked, Nick types quickly and hands it back. "My number. In case I forget to give it to you later. You should have my number."

"Thanks," Louis says. He feels oddly touched as he pockets his phone and smiles shyly up at Nick. "You're still awful."

"And you're a pest," Nick says as they start moving again and perhaps their grip on each other is a little tighter.

"You have no idea," Louis murmurs as they stumble into the kitchen, Nick pressed up close behind Louis and making him wish that he could lean back into Nick's warm body. But he's got Nick's phone number in his phone and perhaps that's enough for now.


End file.
